Just Don't Eat the Cake
by Jojo6
Summary: Jack was supremely pissed at the world. Season 1. SJ.


Just Don't Eat the Cake Just Don't Eat the Cake 

Summary: Jack was supremely pissed off with the world. 

Rating: PG-13 for swearing and sexual references. 

Season: 1. Brief Candle spoilers. 

AN: Thanks to Nanda! And Arduinna for the medals. Particular thanks to Michelle, who was traumatized alllll morning.   


As always, feedback is much appreciated.   
  


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"'Don't eat any cake, Jack'," Jack mimicked in a parody of his favorite archeologist's last words before SG-1 split up that morning. "'Whatever you do, don't eat any cake.'" 

It had been funny the first time. Actually, what was he thinking? No, it hadn't. It had been pretty embarrassing but Carter had laughed and Teal'c had looked… less stoic. Jack had been less than entertained but hadn't said anything, hoping that someone would do something more embarrassing than accidentally sleep with an alien soon and they'd get over this little... accident of his. 

Three weeks later and he was *still* getting the cracks from Daniel and Carter was *still* smirking. And while he got this vaguely unnerving feeling when Carter smirked/smiled/laughed, he still wished Daniel wouldn't do it. He was in command and he was supposed to be gaining the respect of his team. 

But, dammit, this mission he'd actually gone and done it. He'd eaten the cake. Or, more specifically in this case, he'd eaten some kind of pastry. 

Alien pastry. 

Very nice alien pastry, actually. Filled with cream. Topped with something pink and gooey. Jack had been hard pressed to not groan ecstatically each time he took a bite; he was notoriously sweet toothed. 

Unfortunately, ten minutes later, the natives had started to get very wild and glazed. People started to couple up and wander off into dark and warm corners. A couple of women stripped and ran around the campfires with floaty scarves. The whole atmosphere had started to get very… sexy. 

When he caught himself giving his 2IC's breasts lingering looks, the tips of his fingers tingling with eagerness, Jack had known it was time to get back to base and have that new doc stick him with needles. 

Thankfully, this time, he was not alone. 

Carter, her lips pressed tightly together and her eyes downcast, walked quickly beside him. She hadn't once looked him in the eye in the last few minutes, since they'd set off from the village, and he wondered, curiously, why. 

Then he thought how nice and pink her lips were and that she would probably still taste like the pastry they'd consumed and he decided he wouldn't think about her any more. 

"Jack? We're at the Stargate. Do you copy?" 

Oh, thank God. Daniel. He could think about Daniel without getting any disturbing ideas. How he wished he'd gone with Daniel to study the cave pictures instead of Teal'c. "O'Neill here. We're approximately a mile from the Stargate." There. That sounded appropriately stern. 

Go him. 

"Okay. How are you feeling?" 

He rolled his eyes and hopped over a small bush. "Fine. Fine." Not. "You eat anything?" 

"Nothing but MREs and water from our own canteens, Jack." 

Daniel, damn him, sounded amused. 

Asshole. 

"Good. Stay put. We'll be there in fifteen minutes. O'Neill out." 

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Jack!" 

Oh *ha-ha*, Jack thought bitterly. 

He turned around to have a brief discussion with Carter about how *she* was feeling, because it was important that he knew the condition of his team at all times. Only the words wouldn't come out because.... he found her staring at his butt. 

Yeah, that swell of smugness was probably against regulations. 

He abruptly turned back, deciding that talking to Carter involved too much of actually *looking* at Carter – which led to bad thoughts. 

They kept on walking. 

In his head, Jack started to mentally catalogue the medals he'd been awarded throughout his career as a method of distraction. _Defense Distinguished Service Medal, Distinguished Service Medal, Defense Superior Service Medal, Airman's Medal, Defense Meritorious Service Medal... _

At some point, Carter moved a couple of steps ahead of him, her head lowered in concentration and her blonde hair sliding down over her forehead. 

But Jack wasn't looking at her face. Or her hair. Her shoulders. Or, indeed, her lower back. 

No, no, Jack.... well, Jack was looking at Carter's ass. 

She had a *damn* fine ass. He couldn't imagine why he hadn't looked at it closely before. He'd spent a hell of a lot of time walking behind her and he'd always kept his eyes either fixed on the back of her head or looking around for possible danger. 

Just *look* at that ass move! 

Jesus. 

It took him far too long to realize what he was doing and then his head snapped up with almost painful speed and he fixed his eyes above her head, thinking 'shit'. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Ten minutes to go. He could do this. Of course he could do this. He'd been in worse situations. He couldn't currently think of any but that was because Carter was now starting to smell *really* great but that was ridiculous because she, like him, had been walking nearly half of the day and he sure as hell didn't smell great so Carter was probably a little ripe about the edges as well... 

She stopped. 

She bent over. 

Jack's mouth dropped open. 

"WHATTHEHELLAREYOUDOING?!" he demanded. 

No. It wasn't a squeak. 

She stood up to look at him – shewaspoutingohgodshewaspouting – and her lips parted. Deliciously. Ug. "My bootlace is undone." 

Christ. 

"Er....." 

Er? 

"Well, do it up then," he managed. Apparently, the lower part of his body had released a little blood to go back up to his brain. Not a lot but enough to form a sentence. 

She rolled her eyes and if he wasn't desperately trying not to throw her on the ground and, well, do *unspeakably* unprofessional things with her he would have brought her up on it. 

Sadly for Jack's position as CO, he did want to do unspeakably unprofessional things with her. And, frankly, she could roll her eyes all she wanted. 

Why blonde? Why did she have to be blonde? And hot? And smarter than him? Why? He *hated* blonde, hot, smart women. He'd freaking *married* the last one. 

Jack was supremely pissed off with the world. 

Carter, damn her, bent over again. 

"Oh, *fuck*," Jack muttered, which was impressive since he was pretty sure there was no longer blood circulating above his waist. He shifted his stance slightly to relieve some of the pressure and closed his eyes. 

"Ready, sir," Carter said a few moments later, clearing her throat. 

"Walk behind me, Carter," he replied, tersely. 

"I'd rather, er, not, sir." 

Oh, there was just no way she was walking in front of him. No. Way. "It's an order." 

She didn't reply but Jack wasn't about to argue any more. She was lucky he hadn't made her swear never to walk in front of him again. 

He opened his eyes just enough to see a little and started walking. Carefully. 

_Goddamn aliens. Goddamn alien food. Goddamn alien rituals. Goddamn. Goddamn. Goddamn._

A few minutes later, he noticed that the familiar sounds of a person walking behind him – the rustle of boots through grass, the (sexy) sound of BDU material rubbing together – had stopped. 

Reluctantly, Jack stopped and half turned. 

"Carter?" he called out to the shadowy figure approximately ten meters behind him. "What are you doing?" 

She gave him a pathetic look. "I don't want to go back to the SGC like this." 

Hey, she was a woman. She would have *no* problems. He was going to have to walk down that damn ramp in front of *millions* of AFs with a very visible problem. 

Goddamn pants weren't baggy enough. Who was the moron who designed them? A strongly worded letter was obviously in order. Maybe an email. A memo? 

"We don't really have a choice here, Carter," he told her bluntly. "Start moving." 

"Colonel..." Carter faltered and squirmed. 

She was hot when she squirmed, too. 

Oh for... "Argh! Carter – move!" 

Muttering to herself, Captain Carter stalked towards him, brushing past him – deliberately, he was betting – and Jack could swear he felt a trickle of drool slide down his chin. Good thing it was pretty dark. 

Then he realized Carter had stopped. Not exactly of her own accord. Somehow his hand had sort of reached out and gripped hold of her belt. 

No clue how that happened. No clue at all. 

She gave him a worried look (also hot) and looked down at his hand. 

"I'm trying to let go," he assured her (lying) and looked down at his hand also. 

Stupid hand. 

"Why do we get ourselves into these situations?" she wanted to know. 

Jack didn't know the answer to that. He also thought it was a bit of a deep question considering he was currently wondering how she would take it if he slid his hand down the front of her pants. 

He was pretty sure she'd be outraged. 

Or reciprocate in kind. 

Hmm. 

He gave his head a shake and s-l-o-w-l-y pulled his hand away, one finger releasing her belt at a time. 

Finally, she was free. He reached up and gave her shoulder a little push, encouraging her to move her supremely attractive self from his personal space. "There you go." 

"Thanks," she said, steadying herself. 

"My pleasure." He smiled in what he thought was a charming way but Carter's eyes sort of glazed over. Her mouth was fixed in a dreamy smile. 

Jack liked that look a *hell* of a lot. 

"Jack? Where are you? It's been fifteen minutes." 

Where the hell was that voice coming from? Oh! Radio! He reached up and grabbed it – though it took him a couple of moments to work out *how* to use it. "Daniel! Hi!" 

Carter shook her head and stumbled away from him, her hands running through her hair and then going into her pockets. 

The material over her ass stretched... and Jack's brain melted and formed a warm but essentially useless puddle. 

"Er, Jack? Is everything all right?" 

"Just fine, fine." Sure, he was imagining Carter up against that rock over there, naked, but apart from that... "We're nearly there." 

And, looking around, Jack realized they really were nearly there. In fact, he was pretty sure the Stargate was just through that small clump of trees. 

Determinedly, Jack started walking. He grabbed Carter's elbow as he passed her and she – surprisingly obediently – let him drag her along. "Keep talking, Daniel," Jack ordered. If anyone could ruin a mood, Daniel could, he figured. 

"Okay. What do you want me to talk about?" 

"Anything. I don't give a damn." 

There was a pause. "I told you not to eat the cake, Jack." 

"I promise, Daniel. I will *never* eat the cake again." 

"Me either," Carter said, loudly and with some vehemence. 

God she was hot. 

Shit. 

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